


Have I Ever Mentioned?

by BarcelonaFanForever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But so is Draco, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry is a hot head, Hurt/Comfort, Jesus what is this work, M/M, Other, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarcelonaFanForever/pseuds/BarcelonaFanForever
Summary: The 26 times Harry and Draco start off with the sentence "Have I ever mentioned?" when insulting each other.OR the 26 times our favorite pair present themselves as hating each other and the one time they admit that they can't live without each other.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Have I Ever Mentioned?

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Drarry, but what can I say? Anyone can see these two are meant for each other. Also quarantine has highly enhanced my addiction to the HP franchise, not that I'm complaining.

When Harry Potter signed an oath to become an Auror he had imagined a ton of things, pursuits on brooms with the wind blowing in his face, chasing dangerous suspects down dimly light alleys, apprehending dark and dangerous artifacts, and at the end of the day cracking a pint with his fellow Aurors, relaxing in the comfort that they had put away yet another individual and protected the Wizarding World for another night.

But, it appeared that the future always had different plans for Harry. Within a week of graduating from the Auror program, Harry had been presented with his first piece of bad news. He and Ron couldn’t work together as partners on the force. The way Kingsley had explained it to an indignant Ron and Harry, was that it wasn’t that they weren’t a good fit, it just wasn’t fair to the rest of the batch who would be paired off randomly. Not that Harry really complained, he had always determined that wherever he would achieve in his now adult life would not be based on the fact that he was known as “The Saviour”, if he was going to achieve anything, he was going to do on his own terms with his own merit.

Unfortunately, that meant that while the rest of the Aurors were paired off and out in the field, due to a lack of applicants Harry was stuck inside the Ministry dealing with an Auror’s least favorite part of the job. For weeks, he pored over badly spelled reports, catching errors that veteran Aurors had made, grinding his teeth when he found pieces of tainted evidence, or unwarranted surveillance that tossed out cases.

He didn’t think it could’ve gotten any worse but then once crisp December morning Kingsley had called Harry into his office looking grim. At first Harry thought someone had died, but the news Kingsley had given him was in Harry’s somewhat selfish opinion worse than death. They had found a partner; it was just someone Harry had ever expected to be paired with.

 _Draco Malfoy_. Even after almost a year of being paired with Draco, Harry still found it ludicrous that some high ranking Ministry official had pored over their files and decided that “Yes Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy should be paired together during high risk missions, that would be spectacular” and he had been so appalled that he had asked Kingsley if he was loopy, which in hindsight was not the best thing to ask one’s boss. After that, Harry debated quitting. No job was worth it entrusting his life to a pompous git that had tried to end his life multiple times.

Ron had backed him, vehemently saying that they could appeal it and Harry could join the foreign law enforcement services, or go to other countries and apply for MDLE positions. Hermione had been more thoughtful going as far as to admonish Harry and Ron that it had been years since they had last seen Draco, and for all they knew he could’ve changed from the sour faced, blood and status obsessed boy to an actual human being who was well suited for that position. And when Harry still refused to come to terms with it completely she had sent him a Howler that had singed his office and cracked his eardrum, reprimanding him for being so shallow minded laying emphasis that she couldn’t believe that someone like him was so stubborn.

Turns out that Draco had just as much difficulty adjusting to the idea that he was responsible for Harry’s life and Harry was for his. He had shown up to the Ministry, not looking a day over 18, scowling at Ron and sneering at Harry. He had been to France, training under their most prestigious program, and had reappeared when his job prospects were limited over there.

Kingsley had firmly decreed that despite the two hating each other they would have to reach a consensus, and be on their best behavior, especially on times they were representing the Ministry. Any type of indiscretion based on it’s severity would lead to effective termination, with limited chance of gaining reentry in the Ministry. So as much as Harry and Draco wanted to punch the living daylights out of each other, they were bound to be on their best behavior.

The general consensus to obtaining those results was that Harry tried to keep Draco’s presence in his life limited to just their work. It wasn’t difficult considering Draco chose to spend as little time with the rest of the Aurors as possible. While the rest of them went out for drinks or dinner, Draco politely turned down each invitation citing paperwork or other reasons. When that reason stopped working Draco bribed other Aurors into doing their share of work in order to exclude himself from the group. Even those who came from the same House as him were turned away with polite aloofness. In fact as Harry noted, it seemed that Draco was on edge. When it came to work he was sharp, catching onto things that only Harry and veteran Aurors saw, sometimes even seeing things they didn’t. He executed every mission, putting in more effort than the rest of them. Every piece of his paperwork was perfected with no room for error, the penmanship looking like it was printed on the parchment and the report so tight that most if not all cases were pulled in the Auror’s favor.

Over time Harry grudgingly admitted that Draco was not a bad partner, but there was little friendship between him and Draco. On stakeouts the two kept their conversations limited to brief general talk, or they talked about interest in Quidditch, or Ministry affairs but Draco never opened up about his home life. Granted Harry didn’t ask either. Despite the fact Hermione pushed Harry to extend the hand of friendship, Draco took it with the same repressed “I could care less what you think of me attitude”. His desk unlike the Auror’s was scarce of any pictures given one of him and Zambini and Pansy, along with one of his mother. There were no pictures of his father, and Harry didn’t ask why.

If one asked Harry about one negative thing he had gathered about Draco, it would’ve been the younger Malfoy’s deep seated stubbornness. That hadn’t changed from their Hogwarts days, Draco still exhibited the “If I’m right, I’m right” mentality. Which in most cases he was, but sometimes Harry had the strong indication that Draco also deserved his fist connecting with that smug face.

*******************

The stubbornness had brought Harry to their current case. Someone was targeting gay wizards in a seedy tavern, reports stating that the assailant had thoroughly seduced the wizard to the general public, and in the morning the subject of that seduction was found naked and brutally beat up. The case had drawn the Ministry’s attention, and a skittish public had questioned the rampant homophobia that seemed to be associated with the attacks. So Kingsley had assigned Draco and Harry to the case, citing that they were his best and that the matter needed to be shut down quickly. Draco had immediately offered to be bait, citing that he had seen this type of thing in France. Harry had questioned if Draco was the right fit for the job, to which the blonde had spun on his heel and heatedly reminded Harry that he was best qualified for the job.

The two had argued some more once they were back in the office, with Harry pointing out that Draco’s permanent stubbornness and his not so subtle upper class upbringing would immediately set off bells for the assailant. Draco had argued that he was going to handle it perfectly, his eyes flashing as he lashed out at Harry and stating that if Harry didn’t trust him he would just go by himself.

Harry wasn’t having that so he had reluctantly, with a bad feeling trickling in his stomach, followed Draco to the site of the crime. Now as he sat in the seedy tavern nursing a rather bitter whiskey, he was absolutely certain this was going to backfire. His eyes sought Draco in the dimly lit dance floor, where the blonde was currently dancing. The latter had dressed down, a far cry from his expensive dress robes to a more appropriate going out attire, his platinum blonde hair that was always brushed to the point not one strand escaped was now mussed with sweat dripping down his face. To the casual passerby, Draco seemed just like a regular boy out for a night of fun and drinks. But to the more trained eye, one would note a silver wire that was fitted into his ear. Hermione had charmed the earpieces stating that it would help Harry and Draco stay in constant contact throughout the night.

Harry watched with narrowed eyes as Draco danced gracefully around the floor, he wasn’t the typical drunk dancer with his limbs thrashing all over the place, he seemed to swoop and glide over the floor, an enigma to the point all other couples occasionally paused to watch him. The dark fitted shirt that Draco had gone for rode up exposing one small sliver of pale, toned skin. Harry’s mouth went dry for a second as he focused on it (but it was the foul drink he had, drying his tongue ok?).

 _“Potter. Potter.”_ Draco’s voice crackled over the wire in Harry’s ear and he drew himself back into the present. “What is it Malfoy?” he said sitting up alert, wondering if somehow their suspect had slipped through the crowd. “It would be beneficial if you stopped staring at my ass” Draco’s voice seemed clipped but there also seemed to be a tone of something underlying it, a tone of frustration or something Harry couldn’t quite place. He choked on the drink in his mouth spraying out droplets as he indignantly tried to form words.

Him? Staring at Draco’s ass? “I’m not staring at your ass.” he bit back indignantly, mindful that no one else’s attention was drawn to him. He looked up to make eye contact with Draco, the blonde was smirking in a way Harry hadn’t seen him display since their Hogwarts days. There seemed to be something primal in the smile as Draco lazily tilted his head to give Harry a “come hither” glance through hooded grey eyes that seemed to lock Harry in his place.

 _Merlin. What was happening? It was almost like Malfoy had him under some form of spell. Better yet why was Malfoy flirting with him? What form of alternate universe had they entered?_ Harry thought dazedly, and it seemed as if his limbs had a mind of their own as they stepped off the stool and Harry found himself drifting towards where Malfoy stood. The blonde looked up at him through thick, unusually long eyelashes, his eyes almost like a molten silver, smoldering, hooking Harry reeling him in.

Seriously. What was happening? And then Malfoy leaned in, and Harry should’ve honestly been leaning away, but once again it seemed his body couldn’t move. His blood was on fire, dear god, and there was something tightening in his lower region. As Malfoy leaned closer, Harry really saw his face. Malfoy must have been part Veela, he thought, whereas most Aurors including Harry bore the trauma of their work on their face through creases from frowning or lines from long nights, Malfoys face looked like he was still at Hogwarts. His skin almost glowed with a youthful exuberance that would have made any criminal think two times about believing he was an Auror.

Malfoy leaned in even closer, and before Harry knew it Malfoy’s lips were on the shell of his ear. Harry should’ve been repulsed. Keyword was would’ve. Instead he stood still like a dummy. This didn’t feel real. There was something frightening about Malfoy’s touch, it was light but possessive as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. He somehow made his presence felt but also made Harry request more contact. Emotions were going through his head, lust, longing, disgust, fear that someone from their team may have been watching, more disgust that his body was responding in a way to someone like Malfoy nonetheless.

Very casually as if he was mentioning unspeakable things into Harry’s ear, Malfoy whispered _“Play along Potter, our suspect is right there.”_ Play along? It was hard to do anything with the burning sensation Malfoy was creating all over Harry’s body. Malfoy’s fingers tightened on Harry’s waist the way a boyfriend’s would. He was practically sticking to Harry at this point, his fingers dancing all over Harry’s exposed skin tracing patterns. Occasionally they slipped downwards and Harry had to bite his lip back to curtail the keens that were rising in his throat. Malfoy’s hands were those of a sculptor, they seemed to know the human anatomy, specifically the male anatomy.

And then a slight pinch from Malfoy, probably frustrated that Harry was just letting him grope him on the dance floor without putting in any effort. Grey eyes met green eyes, and Harry was absolutely positive that Malfoy was just as effected as him. The blonde’s eyes were almost dark, the pupils so dilated it didn’t seem like an act. Malfoy tilted his head to the side casually as if he was requesting Harry to step off the dance floor, when Harry didn’t respond, he retracted his hands from Harry, the contact dropping Harry’s heart. He followed Malfoy’s gaze, in the direction where a male wizard stood back.

His gaze never left Harry and Malfoy, and the lovely feeling that Malfoy had been giving Harry evaporated into a cold clammy feeling. His skin crawled as the wizard made eye contact with, raised his glass in acknowledgement, his eyes full of mirth. “I’m going to follow him.” Malfoy murmured still playing his part, trailing his fingers lightly up and down Harry’s arm. The words, mixed in with the stare from their suspect was enough to snap Harry out of his Malfoy fueled daze.

“Absolutely not.” Harry shook his head furtively. It was one thing to go after a suspect, where the mechanics, the modus operandi was all examined and figured out. But to go after a suspect, which no one knew anything about? That brought a wave of liability, along with a wave of paperwork and never ending questions from the public. Besides, if Harry had to selfishly admit he rather enjoyed the warmth of Draco’s fingers on his arm. Draco looked mildly annoyed at Harry’s blatant refusal of his idea. Harry could almost picture the thoughts going through the former Slytherin’s head. He probably wanted to hex Harry into next Saturday, or perhaps he would sarcastically jibe that Harry didn’t feel he was qualified enough to take on the suspect, or perhaps “The Saviour” would be better suited to chasing down such a dangerous man. Regardless, Harry wasn’t taking any chances.

He was right as Draco’s face flushed a shade of red that would have made anyone in the Weasley clan proud. “Pot-ter” Draco gritted out between his teeth, each bite to Harry’s name reflective of a knife that Draco wanted to stab into Harry multiple times at this point. “Mal-foy” Harry matched Draco’s agitated glance with his own bored, distanced stare. He wasn’t going to budge. It was ludicrous and Harry was sure even if Draco went to Kingsley, his seniority and Kingsley’s trust would back him up in this decision.

He watched as multiple emotions flitted through Draco’s face. Consternation, followed by anger, followed by defeat, again anger, and then some undecipherable emotion Harry couldn’t label. “Fine” Draco stated petulantly, sulking like they were back in Hogwarts and he had just been reprimanded from committing a much wanted action. Releasing his grip from Harry’s hand, he spun around on his toes with an elegance that would have made the students of Beauxbaton envious, and turned to head off the dance floor.

“Where are you going? Harry called after him. Draco never stopped to look at Harry before he said “Going to the loo, or would you care to accompany to make sure I do that right as well?” He melted out into the crowd and the dim light, as Harry came to the conclusion that it was probably not the best idea to follow him. In that heat of the moment, he forgot how stubborn Malfoys, particularly Draco Malfoy could actually be.

***********

Harry was panicking. Well panicking was an understatement, he was past the panicking stage and now in the stage where he felt that his heart would practically rip out of his chest and land on the floor. At first, as he stood back on the dance floor keeping an eye on the couples and also their potential suspect, Harry hadn’t really paid attention to the time Draco had been absent. He had chalked it off to Draco probably blowing off steam in the bathroom, ranting to some drunken stranger about Harry and his difficulties. But as time moved on, and the dance floor thinned out, and a grumpy looking witch had made her way three times to Harry asking to refill his drink, he realized something was horribly amiss. And as he turned around to the corner where their suspect had been huddled, he definitely felt his heart drop. Oh Fuck.

********

 _"Dear Kingsley. I regret to inform you, that I am a stupid hard headed fuck, who cannot keep their partner in track, and now because of me he’s either dead or about to die, or kidnapped and yes I will officially be quitting."_ Harry mentally rehearsed his speech, his epic screwup speech as he tried to calmly navigate the floors and dark crooks and crannies of the tavern. Damn Draco. Harry should’ve known. He should’ve called Draco’s bluff, considering the blonde had only had probably half of a drinkand had much better bladder control than any other Auror on the team.

Harry’s mind also flashed to Narcissa Malfoy. Kingsley he could somewhat handle, but Draco’s more scary than any other women Harry had known, was someone he couldn’t come across. _Sure Mrs. Malfoy. Sure you saved my life and the Wizarding World inadvertently, and sure when me and Draco became partners you asked me to make sure not a scratch came on him. But now he’s missing and probably dead so how’s that for you?_

Or even Lucius. Harry had little interaction with the Malfoy head, but he was sure that even if one Draco’s impossibly platinum white hair strands were ripped from his head, Lucius would gladly go to Azkaban.

Fuck. This was not good at all. Harry tried to limit his breathing from the panicky gasps, to more controlled intakes of air. Where could’ve Draco gone? Better yet, who could he ask without tipping off an entire tavern full of people, half- who he was sure were doing something illicit that there were two Auror\s in the midst of them. As he pushed past through a thoroughly immersed couple, inciting shouts of indignation from both of them, he could hear an incensed shouting down the corner of a darkened hallway.

Harry pulled his wand out, every Auror instinct screaming at him that this was it. Sure enough as he rounded the corner he spotted two heads, one bearing the trademark whitish blonde hair. Harry picked up his pace, sprinting at a speed that would have made the Auror Academy fitness coach proud.

Just as he reached Draco, the blonde bellowed “STUPEFY!!”, a red light emitting from Draco’s wand causing the other man who had been advancing menacingly towards Draco to fly towards the wall, his back making a sickening crack as he crashed to the ground, a motionless heap. Harry caught the pleased expression on Draco’s face as he nudged the man on the ground making sure he was truly out cold.

A flare of irritation grew hot at the pit of Harry’s stomach as Draco gave him one of his famous “Thank me for saving the day” expressions. Before Draco could get another word in through that pompous mouth of his, Harry bellowed _**“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?”**_ “Oh please Potter” stated Draco as he extended his hand towards Harry, “My stubbornness gets the job done.”

Harry would've disagreed. The regular Harry would've laughed in Draco's face, and then reprimanded him, threaten to report him to his superiors. But he restrained from that, owing it to the big victory that they had just secured, definitely not the waves of relief that had crashed over him, seeing that Draco was okay. Nope, Harry definitely did not have any of those feelings. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, critiques? Suggestions? Leave it all here!
> 
> The ending was a little subpar for my taste, might go back and re-edit, but this has literally been sitting on my computer for six days, so I figured I would finally finish it.


End file.
